Near the capitol of this large and growing State of Illinois, in
the midst of this beautiful grove, and at the open mouth of the vault
which has just received the remains of our fallen chieftain, we gather
to pay a tribute of respect and to drop the tears of sorrow around the
ashes of the mighty dead. A little more than four years ago he left
his plain and quiet home in yonder city, receiving the parting words
of the concourse of friends who in the midst of the dropping of the
gentle shower gathered around him. He spoke of the pain of parting
from the place where he had lived for a quarter of a century, where
his children had been born and his home had been rendered pleasant by
friendly associations; and, as he left, he made an earnest request, in
the hearing of some who are present at this hour, that, as he was
about to enter upon responsibilities which he believed to be greater
than any which had fallen upon any man since the days of Washington,
the people would offer up prayers that God would aid and sustain him
in the work which they had given him to do. His company left your
quiet city, but as it went snares

were in waiting for the chief magistrate. Scarcely did he escape the
dangers of the way or the hands of the assassin as he neared
Washington; and I believe he escaped only through the vigilance of
officers and the prayers of the people, so that the blow was suspended
for more than four years, which was at last permitted, through the
providence of God, to fall.

How different the occasion which witnessed his departure
from that which witnessed his return! Doubtless you expected to take
him by the hand, and to feel the warm grasp which you had felt in
other days, and to see the tall form walking among you which you had
delighted to honor in years past. But he was never permitted to come
until he came with lips mute and silent, the frame encoffined, and a
weeping nation following as his mourners. Such a scene as his return
to you was never witnessed. Among the events of history there have
been great processions of mourners. There was one for the patriarch
Jacob, which went up from Egypt, and the Egyptians wondered at the
evidences of reverence and filial affection which came from the hearts
of the Israelites. There was mourning when Moses fell upon the heights
of Pisgah, and was hid from human view. There have been mournings in
the kingdoms of the earth when kings and warriors have fallen. But
never was there in the history of man such mourning as that which has
accompanied this funeral procession, and has gathered around the
mortal remains of him who was our loved one, and who now sleeps among
us. If we glance at the procession which followed him, we see how the
nation stood aghast.

Tears filled the eyes of manly, sun-burnt faces. Strong men, as they
clasped the hands of their friends, were not able in words to find
vent for their grief. Women and little children caught up the tidings
as they ran through the land, and were melted into tears. The nation
stood still. Men left their plows in the fields and asked what the end
should be. The hum of manufactories ceased, and the sound of the
hammer was not heard. Busy merchants closed their doors, and in the
exchange gold passed no more from hand to hand. Though three weeks
have elapsed, the nation has scarcely breathed easily yet. A mournful
silence is abroad upon the land; nor is this mourning confined to any
class or to any district of country. Men of all political parties, and
of all religious creeds, have united in paying this mournful
tribute. The archbishop of the Roman Catholic Church in New York and a
Protestant minister walked side by side in the sad procession, and a
Jewish rabbi performed a part of the solemn services.

Here are gathered around his tomb the representatives of
the army and navy, senators, judges, governors, and officers of all
the branches of the government. Here, too, are members of civic
processions, with men and women from the humblest as well as the
highest occupations. Here and there, too, are tears as sincere and
warm as any that drop, which come from the eyes of those whose kindred
and whose race have been freed from their chains by him whom they
mourn as their deliverer. More persons have gazed on the face of the
departed than ever looked upon the face of any other departed
man. More have

looked on the procession for sixteen hundred miles, by night and by
day, by sunlight, dawn, twilight, and by torchlight, than ever before
watched the progress of a procession.

We ask why this wonderful mourning, this great procession?
I answer, first, a part of the interest has arisen from the times in
which we live, and in which he that has fallen was a principal
actor. It is a principle of our nature that feelings once excited turn
readily from the object by which they are excited to some other object
which may for the time being take possession of the mind. Another
principle is, the deepest affections of our hearts gather around some
human form in which are incarnated the living thoughts and ideas of
the passing age. If we look then at the times, we see an age of
excitement. For four years the popular heart has been stirred to its
inmost depth. War had come upon us, dividing families, separating
nearest and dearest friends, a war the extent and magnitude of which
no one could estimate; a war in which the blood of brethren was shed
by a brother's hand. A call for soldiers was made by this voice now
hushed, and all over the land, from hill to mountain, from plain to
valley, there sprung up thousands of bold hearts, ready to go forth
and save our national Union. This feeling of excitement was
transformed next into a feeling of deep grief because of the dangers
in which our country was placed. Many said, "Is it possible to save
our nation?" Some in our country, and nearly all the leading men in
other countries, declared it to be impossible to maintain the Union;
and many an honest and patri-

otic heart was deeply pained with apprehensions of common ruin; and
many, in grief and almost in despair, anxiously inquired, What shall
the end of these things be? In addition to this wives had given their
husbands, mothers their sons, the pride and joy of their hearts. They
saw them put on the uniform, they saw them take the martial step, and
they tried to hide their deep feeling of sadness. Many dear ones slept
upon the battle-field never to return again, and there was mourning in
every mansion and in every cabin in our broad land. Then came a
feeling of deeper sadness as the story came of prisoners tortured to
death or starved through the mandates of those who are called the
representatives of the chivalry, and who claimed to be the honorable
ones of the earth; and as we read the stories of frames attenuated and
reduced to mere skeletons, our grief turned partly into horror and
partly into a cry for vengeance.

Then this feeling was changed to one of joy. There came
signs of the end of this rebellion. We followed the career of our
glorious generals. We saw our army, under the command of the brave
officer who is guiding this procession, climb up the heights of
Lookout Mountain, and drive the rebels from their strongholds. Another
brave general swept through Georgia, South and North Carolina, and
drove the combined armies of the rebels before him, while the honored
Lieutenant-General held Lee and his hosts in a death-grasp.

Then the tidings came that Richmond was evacuated, and that
Lee had surrendered. The bells rang

merrily all over the land. The booming of cannon was heard;
illuminations and torchlight processions manifested the general joy,
and families were looking for the speedy return of their loved ones
from the field of battle. Just in the midst of this wildest joy, in
one hour, nay, in one moment, the tidings thrilled throughout the land
that Abraham Lincoln, the best of presidents, had perished by the
hands of an assassin. Then all the feelings which had been gathering
for four years in forms of excitement, grief, horror, and joy, turned
into one wail of woe, a sadness inexpressible, an anguish
unutterable.

But it is not the times merely which caused this
mourning. The mode of his death must be taken into the account. Had he
died on a bed of illness, with kind friends around him; had the sweat
of death been wiped from his brow by gentle hands, while he was yet
conscious; could he have had power to speak words of affection to his
stricken widow, or words of counsel to us like those which we heard in
his parting inaugural at Washington, which shall now be immortal, how
it would have softened or assuaged something of the grief! There might
at least have been preparation for the event. But no moment of warning
was given to him or to us. He was stricken down, too, when his hopes
for the end of the rebellion were bright, and prospects of a joyous
life were before him. There was a cabinet meeting that day, said to
have been the most cheerful and happy of any held since the beginning
of the rebellion. After this meeting he talked with his friends, and
spoke of the four years of tempest, of the storm

being over, and of the four years of pleasure and joy now awaiting
him, as the weight of care and anxiety would be taken from his mind,
and he could have happy days with his family again. In the midst of
these anticipations he left his house never to return alive. The
evening was Good Friday, the saddest day in the whole calendar for the
Christian Church, henceforth in this country to be made sadder, if
possible by the memory of our nation's loss; and so filled with grief
was every Christian heart that even all the joyous thought of Easter
Sunday failed to remove the crushing sorrow under which the true
worshiper bowed in the house of God.

But the great cause of this mourning is to be found in the
man himself. Mr. Lincoln was no ordinary man. I believe the conviction
has been growing on the nation's mind, as it certainly has been on my
own, especially in the last years of his administration, that by the
hand of God he was especially singled out to guide our government in
these troublesome times, and it seems to me that the hand of God may
be traced in many of the events connected with his history. First,
then, I recognize this in the physical education which he received,
and which prepared him for enduring herculean labors. In the foils of
his boyhood and the labors of his manhood, God was giving him an iron
frame. Next to this was his identification with the heart of the great
people, understanding their feelings because he was one of them, and
connected with them in their movements and life. His education was
simple. A few months spent in the school-house gave him the elements
of

education. He read few books, but mastered all he read. Pilgrim's
Progress, Aesop's Fables, and the Life of Washington, were his
favorites. In these we recognize the works which gave the bias to his
character, and which partly moulded his style. His early life, with
its varied struggles, joined him indissolubly to the working masses,
and no elevation in society diminished his respect for the sons of
toil. He knew what it was to fell the tall trees of the forest and to
stem the current of the broad Mississippi. His home was in the growing
West, the heart of the republic and, invigorated by the wind which
swept over its prairies, he learned lessons of self-reliance which
sustained him in seasons of adversity.

His genius was soon recognized, as true genius always will
be, and he was placed in the legislature of his state. Already
acquainted with the principles of law, he devoted his thoughts to
matters of public interest, and began to be looked on as the coming
statesman. As early as 1839 he presented resolutions in the
legislature asking for emancipation in the District of Columbia, when,
with but rare exceptions, the whole popular mind of his state was
opposed to the measure. From that hour he was a steady and uniform
friend of humanity, and was preparing for the conflict of later
years.

If you ask me on what mental characteristic his greatness
rested, I answer, On a quick and ready perception of facts; on a
memory, unusually tenacious and retentive; and on a logical turn of
mind, which followed sternly and unwaveringly every link in the chain
of thought on every subject which he

was called to investigate. I think there have been minds more broad in
their character, more comprehensive in their scope, but I doubt if
ever there has been a man who could follow step by step, with more
logical power, the points which he desired to illustrate. He gained
this power by the close study of geometry, and by a determination to
perceive the truth in all its relations and simplicity, and when
found, to utter it.

It is said of him that in childhood when he had any
difficulty in listening to a conversation, to ascertain what people
meant, if he retired to rest he could not sleep till he tried to
understand the precise point intended, and when understood, to frame
language to convey in it a clearer manner to others. Who that has read
his messages fails to perceive the directness and the simplicity of
his style? And this very trait, which was scoffed at and decried by
opponents, is now recognized as one of the strong points of that
mighty mind which has so powerfully influenced the destiny of this
nation, and which shall, for ages to come, influence the destiny of
humanity.

It was not, however, chiefly by his mental faculties that
he gained such control over mankind. His moral power gave him
pre-eminence. The convictions of men that Abraham Lincoln was an
honest man led them to yield to his guidance. As has been said of
Cobden, whom he greatly resembled, he made all men feel a sense of himself; a recognition of individuality; a
self-relying power. They saw in him a man whom they believed would do
what is right, regardless of all consequences. It was this moral

feeling which gave him the greatest hold on the people, and made his
utterances almost oracular. When the nation was angered by the perfidy
of foreign nations in allowing privateers to be fitted out, he uttered
the significant expression, "One war at a time," and it stilled the
national heart. When his own friends were divided as to what steps
should be taken as to slavery, that simple utterance, "I will save the
Union, if I can, with slavery; if not, slavery must perish, for the
Union must be preserved," became the rallying word. Men felt the
struggle was for the Union, and all other questions must be
subsidiary.

But after all, by the acts of a man shall his fame be
perpetuated. What are his acts? Much praise is due to the men who
aided him. He called able counselors around him, some of whom have
displayed the highest order of talent united with the purest and most
devoted patriotism. He summoned able generals into the field, men who
have borne the sword as bravely as ever any human arm has borne it. He
had the aid of prayerful and thoughtful men everywhere. But, under his
own guiding hands, wise counsels were combined and great movements
conducted.

Turn toward the different departments. We had an
unorganized militia, a mere skeleton army, yet, under his care, that
army has been enlarged into a force which, for skill, intelligence,
efficiency, and bravery, surpasses any which the world had ever
seen. Before its veterans the fame of even the renowned veterans of
Napoleon shall pale, and the

mothers and sisters on these hillsides, and all over the land, shall
take to their arms again braver sons and brothers than ever fought in
European wars. The reason is obvious. Money, or a desire for fame,
collected those armies, or they were rallied to sustain favorite
thrones or dynasties; but the armies he called into being fought for
liberty, for the Union, and for the right of self-government; and many
of them felt that the battles they won were for humanity everywhere,
and for all time; for I believe that God has not suffered this
terrible rebellion to come upon our land merely for a chastisement to
us, or as a lesson to our age.

There are moments which involve in themselves
eternities. There are instants which seem to contain germs which shall
develop and bloom forever. Such a moment came in the tide of time to
our land, when a question must be settled which affected all the
earth. The contest was for human freedom, not for this republic
merely, not for the Union simply, but to decide whether the people, as
a people, in their entire majesty, were destined to be the government,
or whether they were to be subjects to tyrants or aristocrats, or to
class-rule of any kind. This is the great question for which we have
been fighting, and its decision is at hand, and the result of the
contest will affect the ages to come. If successful, republics will
spread, in spite of monarchs, all over this earth.

I turn from the army to the navy. What was it when the war
commenced? Now we have our ships-of-war at home and abroad, to guard
privateers in foreign sympathizing ports, as well as to care for

every part of our own coast. They have taken forts that military men
said could not be taken; and a brave admiral, for the first time in
the world's history, lashed himself to the mast, there to remain as
long as he had a particle of skill or strength to watch over his ship,
while it engaged in the perilous contest of taking the strong forts of
the rebels.

Then again I turn to the treasury department. Where should
the money come from? Wise men predicted ruin, but our national credit
has been maintained, and our currency is safer to-day than it ever was
before. Not only so, but through our national bonds, if properly used,
we shall have a permanent basis for our currency, and an investment so
desirable for capitalists of other nations that, under the laws of
trade, I believe the center of exchange will speedily be transferred
from England to the United States.

But the great act of the mighty chieftain, on which his
fame shall rest long after his frame shall moulder away, is that of
giving freedom to a race. We have all been taught to revere the sacred
characters. Among them Moses stands pre-eminently high. He received
the law from God, and his name is honored among the hosts of
heaven. Was not his greatest act the delivering of three millions of
his kindred out of bondage? Yet we may assert that Abraham Lincoln, by
his proclamation, liberated more enslaved people than ever Moses set
free, and those not of his kindred or his race. Such a power, or such
an opportunity, God has seldom given to man. When other events shall
have been forgotten; when this

world shall have become a network of republics; when every throne
shall be swept from the face of the earth; when literature shall
enlighten all minds; when the claims of humanity shall be recognized
everywhere, this act shall still be conspicuous on the pages of
history. We are thankful that God gave to Abraham Lincoln the decision
and wisdom and grace to issue that proclamation, which stands high
above all other papers which have been penned by uninspired men.

Abraham Lincoln was a good man. He was known as an honest,
temperate, forgiving man; a just man; a man of noble heart in every
way. As to his religious experience, I cannot speak definitely,
because I was not privileged to know much of his private
sentiments. My acquaintance with him did not give me the opportunity
to hear him speak on those topics. This I know, however, he read the
Bible frequently; loved it for its great truths and its profound
teachings; and he tried to be guided by its precepts. He believed in
Christ the Saviour of sinners; and I think he was sincere in trying to
bring his life into harmony with the principles of revealed
religion. Certainly if there ever was a man who illustrated some of
the principles of pure religion, that man was our departed
president. Look over all his speeches; listen to his utterances. He
never spoke unkindly of any man. Even the rebels received no word of
anger from him; and his last day illustrated in a remarkable manner
his forgiving disposition. A dispatch was received that afternoon that
Thompson and Tucker were trying to make

their escape through Maine, and it was proposed to arrest
them. Mr. Lincoln, however, preferred rather to let them quietly
escape. He was seeking to save the very men who had been plotting his
destruction. This morning we read a proclamation offering $25,000 for
the arrest of these men as aiders and abettors of his assassination;
so that, in his expiring acts, he was saying, "Father, forgive them,
they know not what they do."

As a ruler I doubt if any president has ever shown such
trust in God, or in public documents so frequently referred to Divine
aid. Often did he remark to friends and to delegations that his hope
for our success rested in his conviction that God would bless our
efforts, because we were trying to do right. To the address of a large
religious body he replied, "Thanks be unto God, who, in our national
trials, giveth us the Churches." To a minister who said he hoped the
Lord was on our side, he replied that it gave him no concern whether
the Lord was on our side or not "For," he added, "I know the Lord is
always on the side of right;" and with deep feeling added, "But God is
my witness that it is my constant anxiety and prayer that both myself
and this nation should be on the Lord's side."

In his domestic life he was exceedingly kind and
affectionate. He was a devoted husband and father. During his
presidential term he lost his second son, Willie. To an officer of the
army he said, not long since, "Do you ever find yourself talking with
the dead?" and added, "Since Willie's death I catch myself every day
involuntarily talking with him, as

if he were with me." On his widow, who is unable to be here, I need
only invoke the blessing of Almighty God that she may be comforted and
sustained. For his son, who has witnessed the exercises of this hour,
all that I can desire is that the mantle of his father may fall upon
him.

Let us pause a moment in the lesson of the hour before we
part. This man, though he fell by an assassin, still fell under the
permissive hand of God. He had some wise purpose in allowing him so to
fall. What more could he have desired of life for himself? Were not
his honors full? There was no office to which he could aspire. The
popular heart clung around him as around no other man. The nations of
the world had learned to honor our chief magistrate. If rumors of a
desired alliance with England be true, Napoleon trembled when he heard
of the fall of Richmond, and asked what nation would join him to
protect him against our government under the guidance of such a
man. His fame was full, his work was done, and he sealed his glory by
becoming the nation's great martyr for liberty.

He appears to have had a strange presentiment, early in
political life, that some day he would be president. You see it
indicated in 1839. Of the slave power he said, "Broken by it I too may
be; bow to it I never will. The probability that we may fail in the
struggle ought not to deter us from the support of a cause which I
deem to be just. It shall not deter me. If ever I feel the soul within
me elevate and expand to those dimensions not wholly unworthy of its
Almighty architect, it is when I

contemplate the cause of my country, deserted by all the world
besides, and I standing up boldly and alone, and hurling defiance at
her victorious oppressors. Here, without contemplating consequences,
before high Heaven, and in the face of the world, I swear eternal
fidelity to the just cause, as I deem it, of the land of my life, my
liberty, and my love." And yet, recently, he said to more than one, "I
never shall live out the four years of my term. When the rebellion is
crushed my work is done." So it was. He lived to see the last battle
fought, and dictate a dispatch from the home of Jefferson Davis; lived
till the power of the rebellion was broken; and then having done the
work for which God had sent him, angels, I trust, were sent to shield
him from one moment of pain or suffering, and to bear him from this
world to the high and glorious realm where the patriot and the good
shall live forever.

His career teaches young men that every position of
eminence is open before the diligent and the worthy. To the active men
of the country his example is an incentive to trust in God and do
right. To the ambitious there is this fearful lesson: Of the four
candidates for presidential honors in 1860, two of them--Douglas and
Lincoln--once competitors, but now sleeping patriots, rest from their
labors; Bell abandoned to perish in poverty and misery, as a traitor
might perish; and Breckinridge is a frightened fugitive, with the
brand of traitor on his brow.

Standing, as, we do to-day, by his coffin and his
sepulcher, let us resolve to carry forward the policy which he so
nobly begun. Let us do right to all

men. Let us vow, in the sight of Heaven, to eradicate every vestige of
human slavery; to give every human being his true position before God
and man; to crush every form of rebellion, and to stand by the flag
which God has given us. How joyful that it floated over parts of every
state before Mr. Lincoln's career was ended! How singular that, to the
fact of the assassin's heels being caught in the folds of the flag, we
are probably indebted for his capture. The flag and the traitor must
ever be enemies.

Traitors will probably suffer by the change of rulers, for
one of sterner mould, and who himself has deeply suffered from the
rebellion, now wields the sword of justice. Our country, too, is
stronger for the trial. A republic was declared by monarchists too
weak to endure a civil war; yet we have crushed the most gigantic
rebellion in history, and have grown in strength and population every
year of the struggle. We have passed through the ordeal of a popular
election while swords and bayonets were in the field, and have come
out unharmed. And now, in an hour of excitement, with a large minority
having preferred another man for President, when the bullet of the
assassin has laid our President prostrate, has there been a mutiny?
Has any rival proffered his claims? Out of an army of near a million,
no officer or soldier uttered one note of dissent; and, in an hour or
two after Mr. Lincoln's death, another leader, under constitutional
forms, occupied his chair, and the government moved forward without
one single jar. The world will learn that republics are the strongest
governments on earth.

And now, my friends, in the words of the departed, "with
malice toward none," free from all feelings of personal vengeance, yet
believing that the sword must not be borne in vain, let us go forward
even in painful duty. Let every man who was a senator or
representative in Congress, and who aided in beginning this rebellion,
and thus led to the slaughter of our sons and daughters, be brought to
speedy and to certain punishment. Let every officer educated at the
public expense, and who, having been advanced to high position,
perjured himself and turned his sword against the vitals of his
country, be doomed to a traitor's death. This, I believe, is the will
of the American people. Men may attempt to compromise, and to restore
these traitors and murderers to society again. Vainly may they talk of
the fancied honor or chivalry of these murderers of our sons--these
starvers of our prisoners--these officers who mined their prisons and
placed kegs of powder to destroy our captive officers. But the
American people will rise in their majesty and sweep all such
compromises and compromisers away, and will declare that there shall
be no safety for rebel leaders. But to the deluded masses we will
extend the arms of forgiveness. We will take them to our hearts, and
walk with them side by side, as we go forward to work out a glorious
destiny.

The time will come when, in the beautiful words of him
whose lips are now forever sealed, "The mystic cords of memory,
stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave to every living
heart and hearthstone all over this broad land, will yet swell

the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be,
by the better angels of our nature."

Chieftain, farewell! The nation mourns thee. Mothers shall
teach thy name to their lisping children. The youth of our land shall
emulate thy virtues. Statesmen shall study thy record and learn
lessons of wisdom. Mute though thy lips be, yet they still
speak. Hushed is thy voice, but its echoes of liberty are ringing
through the world, and the sons of bondage listen with joy. Prisoned
thou art in death, and yet thou art marching abroad, and chains and
manacles are bursting at thy touch. Thou didst fall not for
thyself. The assassin had no hate for thee. Our hearts were aimed at,
our national life was sought. We crown thee as our martyr, and
humanity enthrones thee as her triumphant son. Hero, Martyr, Friend,
FAREWELL!